


sweet home

by tender_sushijima



Series: sakuatsu [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anniversary, Cohabitation, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, Injury, Inspired by Sweet Home (TV), M/M, Origin Story, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29659059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_sushijima/pseuds/tender_sushijima
Summary: Home is where the heart is.For Atsumu and Kiyoomi, their home is each other.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: sakuatsu [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161872
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	sweet home

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, this made me feel a lot of things cause there's more where this came from. Besides Kingdom, I also love Sweet Home, but unlike Kingdom, I actually wrote things for Sweet Home.

Atsumu’s used to having eyes on him; it’s part-and-parcel of his profession, or at least, it used to be. Anyone who thinks they wouldn’t be closely watched when they’re meant to be watched is naïve, because that’s what being a performer is all about. You perform for the eyes that yearn for something, that beg for you to satisfy them, to show them a sight they’ve never seen before. Atsumu’s always liked having eyes on him, so maybe he’s just getting older, but the mere thought of being idly stared at makes him uncomfortable. Then again, there are many aged performers who still love being the center of attention because they want to be looked at, so maybe Atsumu’s just changed.

Although he can no longer stomach the thought of performing in front of an audience, Atsumu would always love dance. He’s an all-round performer, yes, but dance has always been his first love. Whether it’s jazz, ballet, street, or waltz—Atsumu just loves to move his body to a rhythm, to feel his muscles burn under his skin, to lose himself in the music and forget about the world. Nothing could separate Atsumu and dance, not even after he’d injured his ankle and learned that he could never pursue it with all of him.

Kiyoomi’s the only other person who knows how important dance is in Atsumu’s life. He’s been there since the prime of Atsumu’s performance, around the time he’s garnering interest from professionals and fangirls alike by at least a thousand each day. Even when Atsumu’s days were fully booked and he’s only left with nighttime to rest, Kiyoomi stayed with him and supported him in his own way. He may not share the same idea as Atsumu about life, but they both love each other enough to meet in the middle and live it together. They respect each other’s careers and boundaries, as well as provide encouragement and advice. Though they may fight often, those feelings of resentment never persist because they care about each other too much to keep up a cold shoulder.

It’s a well-balanced give-and-take relationship that they’ve maintained for over seven years, and when the clock strikes midnight, it would be their eighth year. Anniversaries are never a big deal for either of them because they agree it’s a social construct based off of capitalism, but they secretly indulge in commemorating certain dates by holding their own celebrations. None of the celebrations are festive or grand, given that they’re both extremely private persons, and it’s always easier to plan and adjust as they go.

Specially for this day, Atsumu had decided to perform a routine for Kiyoomi. It won’t be anything too excessive or appealing, not when he can’t stand on his injured foot for more than three seconds, but it’s something that’ll make Kiyoomi’s eyes widen. Which isn’t hard because Kiyoomi’s always at awe whenever he watches Atsumu dance, but Kiyoomi’s a hard man to impress. He works closely with the forensics department for investigations; he’s rarely impressed by anything.

Atsumu’s running through the routine at the center of the room when he hears the door click and swing open. He hobbles over to the table to cut off the music on his phone and turns just as Kiyoomi steps inside, who pauses by the shoe rack to stare at him. “Am I interrupting something?” he inquires.

Atsumu shifts most of his weight to his uninjured foot as he leans against the table, switching on his usual nonchalant air. “Kinda, yeah,” he nods.

Kiyoomi looks at him dubiously but says nothing. He bends down to pull off his shoes and nearly loses his balance, shooting Atsumu a dirty look when he snickers. After kicking them off and stuffing them into an empty slot on the rack, Kiyoomi pads into the single-room apartment, tosses his bag off to the single armchair, and throws himself into Atsumu’s arms. He practically melts on him.

The unusual physical affection surprises Atsumu, but he’s always ready whenever Kiyoomi needs him. “Tough day at work?” he asks softly, patting his head.

A throaty hum responds in lieu of an audible answer and Atsumu smiles. Kiyoomi’s arms tighten as he burrows his face into the crook of Atsumu’s neck.

“Why don’t you shower? I’ll make food for you,” Atsumu says.

“Come shower with me.”

“The stall won’t fit us, Omi.”

“Please.”

It’s kind of unfair for Atsumu that Kiyoomi gets away with acting cute like this, because Atsumu never gets away unscathed if he ever pulls a baby voice or puppy dog eyes. Considering that Kiyoomi’s someone who deals with criminals head-on and has a gun strapped onto him eighty percent of his time at work, he shouldn’t be the one who gets to act cute. But Atsumu won’t deny that it’s what makes him feel more special, that he’s the only one whom Kiyoomi shows this side to. Atsumu’s in need of more ways to feel remotely okay, so he simply welcomes Kiyoomi’s little tricks and acts with open arms.

It’s a tight fit, but they’re able to squeeze into the shower stall and help each other wash up. They’ve touched skin so many times that it’s as if they share bodies—Atsumu’s body is Kiyoomi’s, Kiyoomi’s body is Atsumu’s—and they know where all the weak spots are if they’re feeling playful. Surprisingly, Kiyoomi’s the more ticklish of the two, and he would’ve run out of the stall if he doesn’t have the size and strength advantage over Atsumu. He makes sure to be gentle, however, because as much as Atsumu urges him to amp up the power, he knows that Atsumu's more fragile than he really lets on.

Aside from the dance routine, Atsumu had thought of cooking something quick and easy for dinner, but he hadn’t expected Kiyoomi to return so soon. Having known that today’s the eve of their eighth anniversary, Kiyoomi had specially put in a request for an early dismissal several weeks prior so his superior has no excuse to keep him behind. That thoughtfulness doesn’t guarantee that he won’t still be forced to stay behind, but Kiyoomi’s one of the best officers in the department, if not the best. No one would dare to hold him back when he's singlehandedly settled some of their most difficult tasks.

They go to their usual mini bar to have some alcohol and snacks. It’s been too long since they’re able to drink to their heart’s content, as they’d normally have to minimize their intake due to Kiyoomi’s schedule. But Kiyoomi’s also intelligent as he’s strong—he had the foresight to apply for leave for the next day.

“How powerful must you be in the office? You’ve got them eating off your fingers, Omi,” Atsumu remarks as he nurses his glass. “You even said that you’ve gotten busier from the sudden influx of homicides. How could they let you take a vacation?”

“They can deal with a few cases without me. And it’s not like I’ll be gone for a whole week; I’ll get to bottom of them when I go back.” Kiyoomi downs his glass and pours himself more. “For tonight and tomorrow, my only job is to be with you.”

Atsumu smiles. Kiyoomi’s a blunt type of speaker, but aside from the extra oomph he gets when dealing with suspects, he could come off as harsh and inconsiderate. On the other hand, when Kiyoomi’s dealing with Atsumu, he’s either the most romantic or the cheesiest. Atsumu believes him to be the former.

Within an hour, they’re completely inebriated, their heads swirling and their steps uneven. Despite the unstable state of being, Kiyoomi manages to keep them both on their feet and upright with his hidden superhuman strength. They stumble the way back home, with Atsumu belting out off-pitch notes for a song and Kiyoomi cheering him on. It’s nearing midnight by the time they left the bar, so the streets are fairly quiet and empty with the occasional people. Amaterasu Apartment appears to mimic a dump of a building, with clinging vines and crumble walls, but it’s still home to them. It’s their home, the only place they feel safe in the world and with each other.

“Atsu… we should get going,” Kiyoomi slurs, blinking his eyes blearily as he tries to hang onto Atsumu.

“Wait, Omi. I have something to show you.” Atsumu pulls away from Kiyoomi, half-swaying and half-limping to the middle of the carless road. The only functioning streetlight beams down at him like a spotlight.

“Don’t stand in the middle of the road, Atsu.”

“Omi, look. Watch me.”

Without the music, Atsumu easily becomes aware that he’s dancing in front of an audience. He wonders if he hadn’t heard the door open, would he have continued and not felt insecure? It’s natural that he’s self-conscious about someone watching him dance when it’s dead silent around him, but Kiyoomi’s not just a ‘someone’. He’s not a random audience who watches Atsumu to gain something from him; he’s Atsumu’s other half.

Their relationship, while puzzling to many, is built on a simple foundation. They only got to meet in the middle because they’d promised to strip themselves down to their most vulnerable moments so they’re not hiding anything unnecessary from each other. Kiyoomi’s done a good job at that, laying down his intimidating guy act to be soft and gentle with Atsumu, but Atsumu doesn’t think he’s done the same. It’s why he’d specifically chosen to perform this dance routine not just for its simplicity, but also for the memories it held. With or without music, Atsumu is confident that Kiyoomi would be able to recognize the dance, as it’s the one that brought them together.

Atsumu had tripped and fallen a number of times while practicing, but he’s on his feet at the end of the routine. He’s sweaty and hot, his blood buzzing from both adrenaline and alcohol. It’s about time he started dancing again, for both his physical health and to repay Kiyoomi’s unconditional love and support.

After Atsumu’s ankle condition deemed him unfit for strenuous activities, he’s gradually become unable to keep up with his dance team and received lesser invitations to partake in competitions. Over time, Atsumu lost interest in dance, and he became a homebody who refuses to step outside on his own. Despite his crushed feeling of no longer being a professional dancer, he still sneaks outside and goes up to the rooftop to stretch and dance whatever his body remembers, but he’d always chicken out and hide when Kiyoomi catches him. Now seems like the perfect time to show Kiyoomi that he’s no longer depressed about dance, and that he’s thankful for him constantly being around.

“Hey, Omi. You’re staring.” Atsumu chuckles when Kiyoomi is unresponsive, zoned out after having found a temporary seat on a nearby fire hydrant. “Am I that rusty?”

There’s a glazed look in Kiyoomi’s eyes, almost as if he’s hypnotized. “No, you were great,” he shakes his head. “That’s from when we first met, right?”

The smile that forms on Atsumu’s lips is wide and prideful. “Yes! I was testing your memory by not playing the music,” he says, picking Kiyoomi’s hands off his lap to lace their fingers together. “Do you still like it?”

“Of course I do. I replay that dance in my head every night, Atsu.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I don’t, but I still remember it. I remember it like it was just yesterday.”

They gaze into each other’s eyes, alcohol in their heads and love in their hearts. They’ve been through so much together that it’s almost hard to believe that eight years have gone by. Atsumu remembers the day they first met like it was yesterday too; he could even recall the scent of the lemon air freshener in the cold practice room. Kiyoomi wasn’t part of the club; he’s just there to wait for his friend to be done, which wouldn’t make him stand out so much if he wasn’t being totally awkward about it. There were a bunch of other non-members present too, as the dance club had finished their choreography for an upcoming event and they wanted feedback from some people. Atsumu remembered trying to get him to look over by constantly staring at him, which in retrospect must’ve spooked him instead. It didn’t matter anyway, because once the dancers got into positions and the music began, Kiyoomi’s eyes were only on him.

Much like now. His dark pupils twinkle with little specks of light in them, like stars on a clear night sky. Atsumu loves looking at his eyes because they’re so simple yet so emotive. Lucky for him, he gets to look at them all the time now. They’ve found a home together, but home for them is not a place, not Amaterasu Apartment. Home for them is in each other—Atsumu’s home is Kiyoomi’s, Kiyoomi’s home is Atsumu’s.

They’re each other’s sweet home.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is where I'll end the consecutive sakuatsu oneshots. This has been fun, but it won't be the end of my sakuatsu stories. Thank you for reading this far!
> 
> Now that I kinda have more time to spare, I'll be more alive on [insta](https://www.instagram.com/tender_sushijima/). Twitter is a once-in-a-blue-moon thing. I'm not even gonna try. THANKS ANYWAY YO.


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